Dollhouse
by Fiski
Summary: Based off of 'Dollhouse' by Melanie Martinez. The FACE family is falling apart. Matthew's thoughts on how they're doing. T for abuse, alcohol, drugs, and mentions of sex.


**_H_****ello everyone. So here we have a sad FACE fic based on the song Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez, as stated in the description. Aha.**

**It really pained me to write them like this, but..sometimes characters just need to fill those roles, hm? I apologise if you dislike it.**

**Reviews are much appreciated. Thank you for reading.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters mentioned, nor do I own the song Dollhouse.**

* * *

_Hey girl, open the walls, play with your dolls_

_We'll be a perfect family._

_When you walk away, is when we really play_

_You don't hear me when I say,_

_"Mom, please wake up._

_Dad's with a slut, and your son is smoking cannabis."_

That's what the once happy family of four used to be: perfect. They went out for dinner together, laughed together, cried together, hugged, kissed, lived. All together. Matthew didn't know exactly when they started falling apart. It might've been when Alfred had been pressured into trying weed for the first time and became addicted, slowly getting worse. It might've been when Francis became so stressed that he took it out through sex, using prostitutes to let his problems slip away, replaced by ecstasy. It might've been when Arthur stopped caring, when his bright, leaf green eyes turned dull and he spent most of his time lying on the couch, barely responsive to anything. It didn't really matter how it started though. They were too broken to be mended.

_No one ever listens, this wallpaper glistens_

_Don't let them see what goes down in the kitchen._

However, Francis' problems were only temporarily removed through his nights of pleasure. At times, when he was in a drunken rage, he would hit Matthew, leaving him curled up on the kitchen floor with an ugly purple bruise on his cheek, looking up at the crack in the window curtains and silently praying for it to end, for all this to end, for them to be what they used to be. His wishes were never answered. Alfred never received such treatment, as he was always out smoking, or at a club with a fake, yet well forged, ID with Gilbert and Matthias.

_Places, places, get in your places_

_Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces._

_Everyone thinks that we're perfect_

_Please don't let them look through the curtains._

Nobody else knew. They hid it all very well. In public, they had smiles on their faces, and spoke cheerfully and politely to everyone. Alfred had managed to cover up the effects of his addiction quite well, and only Matthew could see the little hints. Matthew's bruises and scars from all the abuse could be hidden with a few dabs of concealer. It made them disappear like they never happened. Like magic. It reminded him of when he was a very young boy, when Alfred had been too rough while they were playing and he sustained a small injury. He would run sniffling to Arthur, who would smile gently, overly-large eyebrows curved up in sympathy. He would hold out the bit that was hurt, and Arthur would kiss it, telling him it was "all better", that he used the "magic kiss". Matthew would always believe him, and think how it was always going to be okay. How naïve he was.

_Picture, picture, smile for the picture_

_Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?_

_Everyone thinks that we're perfect_

_Please don't let them look through the curtains._

Fake a smile. Fake your laughter. Go stand next to Alfred, pretend you two still have brotherly feelings. Pretend Arthur and Francis still get along. Pretend any of you get along. Just don't let anyone know.

He repeated these commands over

And over

And over

Almost like a mantra. He lived by those commands. He would follow them, just so nobody found out.

But...why couldn't anyone find out? He didn't know. He just didn't want anyone to realise just how broken they really were.

_D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_

_I see things that nobody else sees._

_(D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_

_I see things that nobody else sees)_

_Hey girl, look at my mom, she's got it going on_

_Ha, you're blinded by her jewelry._

_When you turn your back she pulls out a flask_

_And forgets his infidelity._

_Uh-oh, she's coming to the attic, plastic_

_Go back to being plastic._

Stupid, everyone was. Antonio couldn't tell Francis was so alcoholic he beat up Matthew almost every night. He couldn't see it. But really, who could? It was all on the inside. Matthew couldn't blame him. He hated Francis. He hated Arthur. He even hated his brother. They weren't his family anymore. They were his prison.

Yet he went on pretending.

_No one ever listens, this wallpaper glistens_

_One day they'll see what goes down in the kitchen._

He couldn't take it. Someone had to find out. But who to tell? Who would help? Ivan? Probably not. Those five mysterious ones from up North? He barely knew them. That Asian man, Yao, who Arthur used to speak with a lot? He heard they had fought and drifted apart. Nobody to help. Nobody to tell. They'd just wither away, until nothing was left...

_Places, places, get in your places_

_Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces._

_Everyone thinks that we're perfect_

_Please don't let them look through the curtains._

Tear streaks on his face, blood on his arms, trembles running through his spine, aching in his lungs from sobbing.

All feelings he knew well.

All feelings he's never gone a week without feeling.

_Picture, picture, smile for the picture_

_Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?_

_Everyone thinks that we're perfect_

_Please don't let them look through the curtains._

_D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_

_I see things that nobody else sees._

_(D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_

_I see things that nobody else sees)_

_Hey girl (hey girl, hey girl, hey girl, hey girl)_

_Hey girl, open your walls, play with your dolls_

_We'll be a perfect family._

Perfect. That word was disgusting. It taunted him. Why couldn't they be perfect again? Why, oh why, can't they just love each other again? Asking why to nothingness and never receiving an answer is all he can ever do.

_Places, places, get in your places_

_Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces._

_Everyone thinks that we're perfect_

_Please don't let them look through the curtains._

_Picture, picture, smile for the picture_

_Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?_

_Everyone thinks that we're perfect_

_Please don't let them look through the curtains._

_D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_

_I see things that nobody else sees._

_(D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E_

_I see things that nobody else sees)_

No one knew the pain they all felt. No one else knew anything they knew. Nobody could've experienced this. But who knows? They hid it so well, maybe someone else did.

Maybe the ones they thought were perfect dolls in their perfect doll houses were just as broken as them.


End file.
